Guardian of the People
by GriffynRyder
Summary: Alya, twin sister of Altair, leads the Guardians, a group who split from the Assassins 27 years ago. She struggles to find and follow her destiny while helping the people of the Middle East recover from Al Mualim and the Crusades. *Please Review!*
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** **Please review. I like to know how I'm doing.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Autumn 1191 AD

The Hills Surrounding Masyaf

Sunset

Two figures stood silently on the tallest hill above Masyaf, their cloaks blowing softly in the wind. The sun was setting behind them, crowning them in a halo of light as they watched the people below, waiting. Beneath them, the village bustled with life; hammers rang as people rebuilt their homes, vendors shouted greetings as they returned to the market, and children laughed in the streets, delighted to be with their friends again. Above it all stood the mighty fortress, home of the Assassins. Flags fluttered proudly in the slight breeze, showing that the strong people of Masyaf were still there, that they had survived.

"He is there?" the smaller figure asked as she gazed upon the massive castle.

"He is." The woman's male companion stepped closer to point at the tallest tower. "He will be their master now, as is his right." He turned his hooded face towards her and she saw his teeth glint in the beautiful smile that gave him his name. "As it will be yours to one day lead us."

"You know I do not want that, Bassam."

"And yet, here you stand, gazing upon the place that is home to one of the greatest leaders this world has ever known... The same leader who is your brother." Bassam placed his hand on her shoulder. "If you are anything like him, you will be great as well."

"I do not desire greatness, only peace." she snapped, shrugging off his hand.

Bassam laughed softly, knowing how well the sound would carry on the wind.

"If anyone can ever truly achieve peace, I believe it will be you, Alya." A sudden gust whipped his black cloak around him, giving him the appearance of a dark angel born of fire. "But for you to find this peace, you must first face your destiny." He stepped around her and forced her to look into his eyes. "You are meant to change the world, Alya, but not as an Assassin. You know that."

She tried to look away, but couldn't. "I do."

"Then why are we here?"

"I had to see what my mother abandoned when she founded the Guardians." She reached up and placed her hand over his as he kept her from moving. "I needed something to say good-bye to before I began this journey." Bassam's smile returned, though it was softer now, with understanding.

"You are wise beyond your years, my friend. Take as long as you need." He squeezed her hand gently and walked to their horses.

Alya took a deep breath and returned her gaze to Masyaf. The rays of the dying sunset painted it in colors of fire. Music rang out as the people celebrated their triumph and mourned their losses.

_'You were right to leave them, Mother,' _she thought_. 'But I do not believe that their cause is as wrong as you taught me, just their methods. They have saved our land from an enemy that I am glad you did not live to see, and they did so in a way that brought them honor and respect from our people.'_ Alya bowed her head as tears flowed down her cheeks._ 'You would be proud of him, Mother. He has done great things with his power, though I know you would not agree with his means.' _She smiled through her tears and looked up at the shining castle once more. _'But now it is my turn to change the world, and I will do it in the way that you taught me, not in the way of the Assassins. I will honor our religion and I will protect the people of this land. I will bring your legacy honor, Mother, I promise.'_

With that, Alya straightened her shoulders and stood tall against the sun. She took one final look at the castle her twin ruled before she turned to Bassam.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"That depends on what you are asking about." she replied, taking the reins to her horse from him.

He chuckled as he gave her a leg up. "Are you ready to begin your journey, then?"

"I am." She watched as he mounted his black charger. "Are you ready to begin this journey with me?"

"I have always been ready." He smiled again, his teeth brilliantly white against the shadow of his face. She smiled back at him and drew her sword.

Turning her steed towards Masyaf, she raised her blade above her head in salute.

"Good bye, Altaïr. May peace be upon you and your people!"

"And may you use your power wisely, my friend." Bassam added, clapping his fist over his heart.

Alya turned in her saddle to look at him. He shrugged his shoulders unabashedly. "I thought it was appropriate."

She laughed softly and sheathed her sword. "Come on," she said, nudging her horse into the sun. "It is a long way back to Jerusalem."

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Chambers of the Master, Masyaf

Sunset

"Are you sure Malik?" Altaïr paced restlessly in front of his friend. "There can be no doubt about this!"

"I am certain, Altaïr. I found the record of your birth when we salvaged what we could from the archives." Malik's dark eyes were unreadable. "You had a twin sister."

"Then what happened to her?" Altaïr exploded, slamming his fist into the wall.

"The records did not say. They simply stated that you had a twin." Malik winced as Altaïr hit the wall again. "You are going to hurt the wall, my friend."

Altaïr took a deep breath and turned around. "I am sorry for losing my temper." He clasped his hands behind his back and strode to the window. "Was there nothing else at all?"

"Nothing that was salvageable."

Altaïr closed his eyes. "What happened to her, Malik?"

"I do not know." Malik stood and went to stand behind his friend. "But we will find out. I promise."

"I will hold you to that."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: **_Madrassa _**is the Arabic word for 'school'. _**Please, please review! **_I want to know how I am doing!

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When Alya and Bassam made it back to Jerusalem it was almost morning two days later. The sun was just beginning to come up over the east wall and the city was already awakening. Just outside the city Alya and Bassam stopped to take care of their horses at the Guardian's private stable. They were greeted by the old stable hand, Hafiz.

When he saw them approaching he smiled and put away the saddle he was oiling. "So, the wandering children return! And just to see old Hafiz before you set off on your next daring adventure!" He bowed at them and took their reins. "I am truly honored."

"You should be," Bassam said sarcastically, following the old man into the stable. "If it weren't for our undying love for you, we would never have come back."

"Of course you would have," said a deep voice behind them. "You both test to qualify for the rank of master tomorrow, and you know how disappointed I would be if you were not there."Alya laughed and turned around to a very large, very muscular black man.

"And we would not want to disappoint you, Sayyid," she said, allowing him to wrap her in a bear hug. Behind there was a sharp slap, followed by an surprised cry from Bassam.

"What was that for?" he yelped, rubbing his forehead.

"Making fun of an old man," Hafiz sniffed, indignant. He then walked away with their horses, studiously ignoring them.

"I wasn't making fun of you!" Bassam cried after him. Alya snickered and stepped over to her friend. Pulling his hood off, she inspected his forehead. His unusual blue eyes danced with amusement and mild anger.

"You will be fine. He did not hit you hard." Sayyid chuckled behind her.

"Easy for you to say," Bassam muttered darkly, going to lean against the wall. "He didn't hit you!"

"And already the smiling one has gotten himself in trouble." Sayyid's deep laughter echoed through the stable. Bassam glowered and pulled his hood up. "It is good to have you two back."

"It is good to be back." Alya replied, stretching. "And good to be off a horse!"

"I would think so." Sayyid smiled and gestured towards the door. " Are you ready to go into the city? You need to rest and regain your strength before tomorrow." He winked at Alya as they walked ahead and said loudly, "I know Bassam at least will need some last minute practice, if only to avoid failing miserably."

"Be that as it may," Bassam replied coolly, dropping down in front of them from a rafter he had apparently climbed up to, "I can still beat you both to the _Madrassa_ without breaking a sweat." Blinding them with his smile, he took off, running up the side of the nearest building.

"It does not count if you get a head start!" Alya yelled, sprinting along the ground after her friend. Sayyid's booming laugh followed and she knew he was right behind her. Above them Bassam was leaping from house to house, moving fast like a panther in the trees. Villagers they passed just laughed and called encouragement to their favorite; they were used to the impromptu races through the streets. Behind Alya, Sayyid had managed to get onto the roofs as well, and was quickly gaining on both she and Bassam. Knowing she couldn't win on the ground, Alya searched for a way up as she ran.

Her opportunity came when they reached the marketplace. Jumping on a storage crate, she grabbed a beam that ran the length of the enclosed area and flung herself into thin air. Landing neatly on the short wall that bordered the shops, she used her momentum to propel herself onto the roof of the closest house. Not pausing for a moment, she sprinted after her friends, her shorter legs pumping to keep up. Ahead of her, they were reaching the great wall around the city, each beginning their own ascent to the top. Only seconds behind them, she flung herself at the wall and grabbed the nearest handhold, hauling herself up after them.

Halfway up the wall, Sayyid had finally caught Bassam. Reaching up with one massively muscled arm, he grabbed the younger man's foot and yanked, pulling Bassam off the wall and sending him plummeting towards the ground.

Spinning around as he fell, Bassam kicked off the wall, back-flipping just in time to land on all fours. Alya laughed when she heard him yell, "That was cheating, Sayyid!"

"You cheated first!" he roared back as he reached the top. He paused only to smile tauntingly at them before he disappeared over the wall. Behind her, Alya heard Bassam snarl and begin to climb again. Smiling, she forced herself to concentrate and quickly made it to the top. Checking for guards, she pulled herself over the edge and sprinted the ten feet to the other side of the wall. Without hesitating, she flung her arms out and leaped into space, pigeons flying as she startled them from their perch. Wind whistled in her ears and she pulled her knees in, flipping onto her back right before she landed in a massive pile of hay.

Shaking pieces of straw from her hair, she yanked her hood down and took off after Sayyid. Her small size giving her a distinct advantage in the crowded city, she quickly caught up to him. Threading her way through a throng of people in front of a temple, she grabbed a tree branch and swung herself to the top of a street vendor's stall. From there, she jumped to a window and hauled herself up to the roof. Pausing to orient herself, she smiled when she saw Sayyid get stuck as a farmer herded his flock to market through a massive crowd.

Leaving her friend to his traffic jam, Alya ran swiftly along the rooftops, carefully avoiding the archers and ever-present guards. As she came close to her destination she jumped down to the rafters that spanned the streets between the houses. She jumped from one to another until the _Madrassa_ came into view; then she grabbed onto an iron lamp-holder and swung herself to the ground. Sprinting the last few feet, she skidded to a stop in front of a well worn door, dust swirling around her.

Smiling in triumph, she nodded breathlessly at the guard. He shook his head and and laughed as he waved her in. Pushing the door open, she strode proudly into the main hallway, beaming with her victory. As the door slammed shut behind her, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"It's about time you got here," Bassam said, laughing at the stunned look on Alya's face. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get me next time." His trademark smile flashed on his hooded face.


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you do that!" Alya exploded at Bassam, smacking him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, laughing.

"I do not know!" He clambered up a column when she smacked him again. "I am just good at free-running." He grinned down at her from his perch.

"You could at least let me win every now and then," she muttered under her breath, stalking into the massive library just off the entry hallway. A light thump echoed behind her and Bassam appeared at by side.

"Where are you going?" he asked, oblivious to her comment. She glared at him and sighed.

"To follow Sayyid's advice and get in some last minute practice before going to bed. You should do the same you know." She paused at one of the many bookshelves and glanced at the nearest titles.

"It is no fun to follow the rules all the time, Alya." Bassam threw his arms wide and spun in a graceful circle. "You need to have a little fun... And where did you leave Sayyid?"

Alya snorted and ducked to browse a lower shelf. "Sayyid is stuck behind a farmer and his sheep in the market." Nodding to herself, she pulled a scroll from its place and waved it at Bassam. "Fun for me is defeating you when we spar."

"Your manners leave many things to be desired," Bassam said wryly, offering a hand to her her up. Rolling her eyes, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"And of course yours are perfect." Alya walked to a desk piled high with papers, books, and scrolls. Smiling, she handed her selection to the librarian. "I will have this one please, _Jaddah_." The old woman smiled back at her and carefully recorded the title before returning the scroll.

"I never said that I have perfect manners," Bassam continued as they left for the living area. "I merely stated that you need to improve upon yours." His teeth glinted in his famous smile before his hood completely shadowed his face.

Alya sighed. "My manners are fine when I am around anyone else. Only you annoy me enough to cause me to slip up." She smiled teasingly and he laughed.

"I do my best."

They walked in comfortable silence to her rooms. Turning away from the door, she asked, "Are you going to join me for practice?"

Bassam's smile widened and he backed down the hall towards his quarters. "Of course!"

With a numbing crack, Alya blocked Bassam's staff with her own. Ducking to the left, she feinted and slid under his arm, smacking her staff into side. Bassam grunted and stumbled back, spinning his weapon to keep her away. Without warning, he switched his grip and swung directly at her stomach. Throwing herself into a back-bend so deep that her head touched the floor, Alya barely avoided the crushing blow. Snapping up in a snake-like movement, she slanted her staff to deflect his secondary shot and sent her boot crashing into his chest.

The breath whooshed from his lungs and he went flying backwards. Sliding to a stop just inches from the wall, he barely had enough time to bring his weapon to bear before Alya was attacking again. Stabbing at his head with the butt of her staff, she barely missed her mark when he rolled to the side.

Snarling, she swung at his hips, only to have him do a half-somersault and use his legs to launch himself away from the wall. In the same movement, he spun on his back and scissor-kicked her legs out from under her. Landing hard, she twisted her away from him, pulling her staff close to her body and using it to pull herself up into a crouch.

Bassam lurked a few feet away, his strange blue eyes sparkling. "Truce?" he panted.

"Not a chance!" she hissed, flipping her staff around and launching it at him like a spear. Ducking just in time, Bassam was not able to avoid her flying tackle. Slamming them into the ground, Alya locked her legs around his chest and arms, effectively pinning him. She leaned forward as he struggled and pressed her forearm across his throat.

Applying steady pressure, she pushed harder until he stopped struggling. "Do you yield?" she hissed.

Gasping, he nodded. Beaming victoriously, she rolled off his chest to sit beside him. He sat up and rubbed his throat. "Well done." he coughed.

"Now we are even." Alya stood and reached down to pull him up as well.

"Agreed. Next time, though, please let me call a truce before you crush my airway." He winced when he spoke, his voice scratchy. Alya laughed softly.

"Bassam!" A lean, muscular young man ran up as Bassam walked down the hall and clapped him on the shoulder. "When did you get back, my friend?"

"Fadi!" Bassam pulled the boy into a bear hug before playfully shoving him at the wall. "Alya and I reached the wall this morning at dawn."

Fadi laughed. "Ah, so you beat her back again?"

"Not only her," Bassam said, grinning from ear to ear. "Sayyid as well. He is still stuck in the market." Fadi jumped around him in excitement. Bassam laughed. "You need to calm down, youngling. You are going to explode if you keep it up." He grabbed the boy and pulled him into a headlock.

"Bassam!" Fadi protested, laughing. "Let me go!"

"Baby," Bassam teased, scrubbing his head and pushing him away. "What have you been doing while I was gone?"

"Training." he replied, pushing him back. "I went up a rank!" Fadi's whole face lit up with happiness.

"Congratulations my friend!" Bassam shook his head in wonder. "You are being promoted faster than anyone I have ever known."

Fadi was suddenly serious. "I had a good mentor."

Bassam paused and studied his friend quietly for a moment. "That means a lot to me." The boy smiled softly.

"I would not have said it if I had not meant it. Now," he said, pulling his friend along. "Let's go get something to eat!" Bassam laughed and allowed himself to be towed down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

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**AN: Thanks to my awesome betas for helping out with this chapter! Everybody, PLEASE REVIEW!**

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The sun had just risen over the _Madrassa_; golden rays of light filtered through the massive stained glass windows and the stone walls shone in the dusty morning sun. The dark wooden doors were still cloaked in the shadow of the protective wall and pigeons fluttered from the roof as a Guardian sentinel paced silently on watch-duty, his light brown cloak blending perfectly with the rooftop. The dome on the western side of the building cast a long shadow across the fenced-in training yard where the normally well-used training dummies and equipment sat idle, their masters occupied with something far more important that morning.

The five Guardians who were to test for the rank of Master stood ready in the library. Everyone from the oldest Guardians to the youngest apprentices had gathered to watch, abandoning all other duties. The balconies of the massive room were packed, as well as the entryway to the _Madrassa_; it was not everyday that someone tried to become a Master, let alone the daughter of their founder, so everyone was gathered for the event. The only people missing were the few Guardians on patrol or guard duty who could not be spared for the event.

Whispers ran through the excited crowd as Sayyid pushed his way into the room to stand before the five. Planting himself firmly in front of his students, he folded his hands behind his back and looked them each in the eyes.

"Today," he said evenly as they straightened with respect. "You will all attempt to become Masters of our order. I stress the word _attempt_, as not all of you will make it through this trial." Sayyid began to pace, glaring sternly as he did. "All of you know the risks of becoming such a big part of the Guardians. You would not be here if you did not. That said—" he stopped abruptly as the main door slammed open, the loud bang echoing throughout the entire _Madrassa_.

A patrolman stumbled into the library, an arrow protruding from his side. Gasps and fearful exclamations rippled through the room as Bassam caught the collapsing young man. Sayyid slid to his knees next to them and pulled back the boy's hood.

"Fadi!" Bassam whispered as he held his bleeding friend. Alya gripped her friend's shoulder as Sayyid ripped off a piece of his tunic and wrapped it gently around the base of the arrow. Fadi cried out and struggled for breath.

"Be still, young one," Sayyid said quietly. "Tell us what has happened and we will get you to the healers."

"Assassins," Fadi gasped; blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "Al Mualim's Assassins are attacking the people of the city." He coughed and Bassam wiped the blood from his friend's face with his sleeve. "They have been driven mad by the loss of Al Mualim's power." Fadi focused on Bassam's face. "Help me," he whispered weakly. "Please." His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp. A tear slipped down Bassam's face as he gripped his friend closer for one final second.

"I will." he touched his forehead to Fadi's. "I promise."

"Quickly," Sayyid gestured two apprentices over. "Get him to the healer's room." The two young men gently lifted Fadi and hauled him quickly from the room.

The library was dead silent for one second before chaos erupted.

"Archers to the roofs!" Sayyid roared as people hurtled everywhere. "Swordsmen in the streets, protect anyone you can, and EVERYONE in armor!" He turned and grabbed Bassam's black robe as he attempted to slide past. "You are not to be out there!" Sayyid shook him so hard that Bassam's fell hood off, revealing his tattooed, shaved head. "Do you understand me? You are too close to this!"

"I am going!" Bassam pushed roughly at his teacher's chest, his face masked in pain. "Now let me go!" He twisted and struggled to get free, but Sayyid's arm was like stone. Finally, he stilled and hung his head. "Please," he sobbed, glancing pleadingly up at his mentor as Guardians swirled around them. Sayyid opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted.

"I will go with him," Alya said, offering Sayyid his massive sword. "We will keep each other safe." She glanced at her friend. "As we always have."

Sayyid met her eyes evenly and nodded once. He then released Bassam who jerked away and pushed roughly through the thinning crowd. Alya handed Sayyid his sword and ran after her friend.

"Bassam!" she called, struggling to keep up with his longer legs. He was sprinting down the hall ahead of her, pushing everyone out of his way. "Bassam, wait!" He whirled and stopped at the stairs.

"Do not get in my way, Alya." His odd blue eyes flashed and anger contorted his tense features.

"I was not planning on it." She said quietly, sliding to a stop in front of him. "I was only going to help with your armor." She met his eyes and smiled softly. "We cannot help Fadi if we are both dead for lack of armor."

His face relaxed somewhat and he nodded. "We must prepare quickly. There is no time to waste." He turned quickly and strode up the stairs.

Alya sighed and looked heavenward. 'Help us. Please keep him from getting himself killed.' Bassam reappeared at the top. "Are you coming?" he demanded.

"I am right behind you."

Moments later Alya and Bassam were in the streets, shepherding people away from the violence.

"This way!" Alya shouted above the din, gently pushing people in the right direction. "Get to your friends in the east and hide with them! Someone will come for you when it is safe!" Bassam appeared out of a smoking house across the street carrying a sobbing child.

"My baby!" a woman cried, running to Bassam. He smiled and handed her the child, then wove his way to Alya's side.

"Most people understand they need to head east. We are not needed down here anymore." He turned his hooded face upward. "It is time to get in this fight."

"Bassam." Alya grabbed his shoulder as he started to climb. "Revenge is not the answer to this." A Guardian swung onto their street and saluted before leaping to a rooftop. "You know our creed. Unless it is for self defense, killing is not permitted; this includes revenge... Bassam!" He shook her off and resumed climbing. Snarling, she jumped and grabbed his boot, yanked him off the wall, and pinned him in the middle of the street. People cursed at them as they swirled eastward; one particularly rude old man spat on Alya's robe.

"Damn Assassins, always meddling," he grumbled before hobbling onward.

"Let me up, Alya," Bassam growled, his voice dangerous. "I am not in the mood to be held back again." He tensed his entire body, prepared to fight to get up.

"No," she snarled, slamming him back into the ground. "Now you listen to me. You are always saying I must accept my destiny to lead our people, and now you are prepared to turn your back on everything we stand for? How is that support? How can you expect me to 'accept my destiny' if my closest friend will not honor the way we choose to live?" She grasped his robe and pulled his face to hers. "If this is the path you choose, I will not stop you. But I will tell you this: you will not be welcome at the _Madrassa_ again if you somehow survive this insanity." She dropped him roughly and stood, her white cloak swirling around her. Bassam stared up at her, both alarmed and surprised. "Now choose," she demanded, ignoring his expression. "You will come with me, or you will vanish into this crowd." She offered him her hand and waited.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. Ignoring her hand, he hauled himself to his feet and gazed at her. Alya sighed and closed her eyes. "So that is your choice?"

Bassam's soft laugh was the last thing she expected. Opening her eyes, she stared at him in surprise. His beaming smile shone on his shadowed face as he pulled her into a quick hug.

"I am sorry for overreacting. Thank you for not giving up on me." He pulled back and held her shoulders. "I would never leave you, Alya. Who would keep me out of trouble if I ran off? And who else could make sure you achieve your destiny?"

Alya rolled her eyes at that. "Of course that is your reason." She smiled back and reached up to squeeze his hand. "Now, we really should go help."

"Yes," Bassam answered. "Together." He grinned and pushed away from her, leaping for the wall.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Finally, the next chapter is up! Sorry it took so long, but exams and sports kicked my butt! **_Please, please, please review! _**Thanks to Alexandra the Dreamer for being an awesome beta and making me realize that this chapter really was ready to go!

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Crusader Guardhouse – Acre

17 Years Ago

A slight scrape on the rooftop was the only warning the guards had before the phantom was among them. Black cloak whirling and blades flying, the demon destroyed half the small force before they even had a chance to react. The captain was the first to go; the Assassin landed on him as he broke through the roof. Then the lieutenants fell, throwing knives buried in their surprised faces. Guardsmen on the street heard the chaos and burst into the small structure, attempting to overwhelm the Assassin with sheer strength in numbers. It didn't work. They fell quickly, along with those few who had remained alive when they beat down the door. Within five minutes of the initial attack, the carnage was complete; no one was left alive.

The screams of witnesses pierced the air as the Assassin glanced about the room, surveying his handiwork with detached satisfaction. Stepping over bodies, he strode to where the Captain's corpse lay. Face down among the rubble of the table, the man's spine had obviously been broken by the impact of the Assassin's landing. His throat had been cut as well, most likely by one of his own men as they desperately tried to defend themselves. Gently rolling the Captain over, the Assassin reached into his robe and removed a white feather. Running it quickly through the blood on the man's neck, he then stood and jumped to the nearest rafter.

He was reaching for the hole he had made in the roof when he heard the smallest of sounds coming from the opposite side of the room. The Assassin froze, listening intently. His head snapped up as the sound returned, his sharp eyes locking onto a small trunk by the door. Swinging to the ground with a quiet thump, he flicked out his hidden blade and approached the source of the noise.

Crouching silently beside the trunk, he laid his hand on the latch and tensed his whole body in preparation. Without warning, he slammed the top up, his blade flashing down to what lay hidden within.

He stopped its gleaming arc just in time. The tip of his blade hovered less than an inch from the throat of the small, blue-eyed boy who hid, crying softly, inside the trunk. The child froze, terrified as the Assassin pressed the sharpened steel to his throat and leaned close.

"Let this be a lesson, youngling," The Assassin whispered, his voice low and menacing. "This is what becomes of those who threaten the peace of the Holy Land. This is what happens to invaders... especially ones who follow your fool of a king." The blade's touch became more insistent against the boy's throat; a small ribbon of blood trickled down his neck as the Assassin pressed harder. The boy scrunched his eyes closed in fear. "Go out and warn your people, rat. Tell them that while they fight Salah al-Din and his men in the open, we will be waiting and watching in the shadows." The Assassin ran the knife slowly down the boys neck, leaving a shallow cut across his throat. His voice became no more than a breath of air. "Waiting to strike."

The boy gasped in surprise as the stinging weight of the knife suddenly disappeared. A small gust of air rushed across his face and he timidly opened his eyes. The Assassin was gone.

Tears leaked from the boys eyes, leaving clean streaks on his dirty face. He crawled from his hiding spot and picked his way through the bodies, desperately trying not to see the contorted limbs, unblinking eyes, and massive bloodstains. When he reached the Captain he collapsed, falling to his knees next to the man. Sobbing quietly, he lifted a shaky hand and gently closed the Captain's eyes. His small shoulders heaving, he leaned down and kissed the man's forehead.

"I will find a way to make this right, Father," he whispered, tears from his face falling into his father's beard. "I promise." His voice cracked, and he gave up. Laying his head on his father's chest, the small boy truly cried, not caring who heard him.

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Masyaf

Present Day

"What do you mean there are Assassins attacking Jerusalem?" Altaïr roared, sweeping his hand across his desk, sending books, papers, and candles flying. Two of the younger Assassins who had brought the news flinched, but Malik stood his ground.

"They are not our Assassins, as I have said. They are followers of Al Mualim who have gone mad from the loss of the Piece of Eden." Malik's calm voice did little to sooth Altaïr's rage.

"That makes no difference to the people!" Altaïr stomped his boot on a paper that had caught fire from one of the fallen candles. "All they will see is Assassins murdering them! There will be no difference between us and those who attack!" He whirled and strode to the window. He paused there and stared out over Masyaf, his entire body thrumming with tension. The younger Assassins held their breath; many times, Al Mualim had punished the bearers of bad news. They had yet to see Altaïr's reaction to such a situation. Malik simply watched, waiting with subdued anxiety for his friend's orders.

"Thank you for bringing the information so quickly." Altaïr's voice was quiet now, his shoulders relaxing as the rage drained from his body. "We now have time to react." He turned from the window to face the stunned apprentices, smiling softly at their obvious surprise. "You have done well. Now, go and find all our leaders. Bring them to me quickly. We have planning to do." He dipped his hooded head as the three students bowed quickly and sprinted from his library. Turning to Malik, he waited quietly for his friend's opinion.

Taking time to choose his words carefully, Malik finally spoke. "We have to help the people."

Altaïr nodded. "I know."

"It is our duty, as it is our fault they are suffering." Malik's dark eyes were unreadable.

"I know that as well, my friend." Altaïr sighed and hung his head.

"Even so," Malik said slowly, gauging Altaïr's reaction. "We may not be needed in this fight."

"What?" Altaïr's head snapped up. "How can you say that?"

Malik held his hands out in a placating manner. "Those who brought you the news came as soon as violence became inevitable. They came quickly, yes, but their information is still old."

Altaïr's eyes widened. "You have newer intelligence?"

Malik nodded. "I received an Eagle-message from one of my contacts right before you summoned me here. It seems that there are..." Malik hesitated, searching for something. "'Assassins' who are already helping. Assassins that are not Assassins. And many of them, as well."

"We have no Assassins in Jerusalem right now. Everyone has been called home." Altaïr's brow wrinkled in thought.

"Precisely." Malik pushed himself away from the post he had been leaning on and moved to stand at his friend's side. "My contact also said that the Assassins who helped did not wear our symbol." Malik nodded at Altaïr's surprised expression."There was one more thing in the message..." Malik hesitated again. "These 'Assassins', they are made up of both men and women." Altaïr snorted at that, but waved his hand for Malik to continue. "My contact said there was one young woman who you might be particularly interested in. She was not only obviously one of the highest ranking members of... their Order, but he overheard her name." Malik pulled the message from his sleeve and handed it to Altaïr.

Altaïr took the paper and scanned it quickly. Halfway through the message, he froze, all the blood draining from his face. "Alya," he whispered. His eyes jerked away from the paper to meet Malik's. "My twin's name. Is he certain?"

Malik nodded and Altaïr shuddered as if he'd been struck. "If you keep reading, you'll see that he saw her face. Though only for a brief second, he could tell that she looked exactly like you. We have found your twin."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I know its a short chapter, bu I couldn't resist. Anyway, let me know what you think!

* * *

Jerusalem

Present Day

Bassam and Alya slipped silently across the rooftops, literally flying in the direction of the largest battle. The streets echoed with the sounds of fighting; Guardians fought with Assassins and city guards, as they were easily mistaken for the attacking enemy. Black smoke billowed across the cloudless sky, giving the air an acrid smell; buildings as old as the city itself burned as the maddened Assassins destroyed anything in their path. Screams filled the streets as civilians and warriors fled and fought in the madness. Innocents were slaughtered, guards were butchered, and still the Assassins fought. Like an animal mad with rabies, their fury and insanity knew no bounds. Anyone in their path was a target. Anything in their way was demolished.

Skidding to the edge of the arched entrance to the marketplace, Alya and Bassam used their momentum to drop over the edge of the roof, grasping and landing neatly on the beams that ran above the many stalls and shops. Bounding lightly from beam to beam, they ran quickly through the cathedral-like halls, heading for large battle in the center of the market.

Dust from the fighting swirled in the air as they came to the large open-air courtyard that served as the market's hub. Both Alya and Bassam stopped on the last beam, cloaked in the shadows of the curving hall above them. Each quickly cataloged the scene, taking in everything they could before they headed into battle.

"There." Bassam flicked his hand toward a Guardian desperately trying to fend off three Assassins at once.

Not bothering to respond, Alya simply flung herself into space, kicking her feet above her head and around, flying through the air on her back. The world seemed to slow as the wind roared in her ears, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She felt, rather than saw her feet connect with the market stall and flexed her knees, absorbing the impact and pushing off at the same time. Time resumed its normal pace then, as she spun through her back flip and landed, crouched, in a whirlwind of dust.

Rolling under the sword strike of an Assassin, she came up kicking; her feet connected solidly with the man's stomach and he doubled over with a snarl, his eyes meeting hers. Alya gasped in shock and pain, falling hard to the ground. Reality seemed to disappear and she tried desperately to move away, but his searing gaze held her.

His eyes were glowing, red and bloodshot, clearly insane and drunk with power. They burned into her mind and she couldn't look away, even to defend herself. Her whole body radiated with pain as he held her gaze with a horrible power she had never felt before.

The Assassin straightened, holding his stomach where she had kicked him, his eyes always locked on hers. Alya struggled to breathe as he stepped to her, his power becoming stronger the closer he came. She heard him open his hidden blade, but did not see it; the edges of her vision went black with pain, his glowing eyes the center of her world.

* * *

Bassam jumped less than a second after Alya, his leap taking him farther. He landed hard behind the market stall, his sword drawn and ready. Easily blocking the strike of a clearly panicked city guard, he ducked in close and jerked the man up by his collar.

"Run away from here!" he hissed, his face inches from the guard's. The man yelped as Bassam sidestepped three fighters, jerking him roughly along. "This is not your fight! Do you understand?!" Bassam shook him until the man nodded and then released him, shoving him toward the archway. Spinning in a circle, he glanced around for Alya, hoping that she had already reached the outnumbered Guardians. His eyes widened when he finally saw her.

Immediately charging forward, he could hardly register what he was seeing. An Assassin stood above her, his eyes literally glowing red in the darkness of his hood. Alya's hood had fallen back, and she stared at the Assassin as if in a trance; her face was pale and unnatural black streaks crept outwards like horrible vines from the corners of her eyes. The man reached forward and grabbed her by the throat, his hidden blade raised high above his head, poised for the kill.

"No!" Bassam roared, slamming into the man just as his blade came down. There was a loud crack as the man's spine broke from the force of the impact; as Bassam hit the ground on top of the now-dead specter, the only thing he could see was Alya. She seemed to move in slow motion as she toppled almost gently backwards, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes wide and unseeing, with those horrible black streaks pulsing and leaking blood like tears down her cheeks. She landed in a crumpled heap, her eyes never closing, staring straight into the midday sun.


End file.
